


Scars

by TheWeatherOutside



Series: Whumptober 2019 [15]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Study, Fake AH Crew, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, mentions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeatherOutside/pseuds/TheWeatherOutside
Summary: Scars. He had a lot of them.A (possible?) character study of the Golden Boy and his many scars, both physical and mental.Day 15 of Whumptober 2019 - Scars





	Scars

Scars. He had a lot of them.

On his body, on his mind. Too many to count and at this point he didn’t even care when that number racked up. It wasn’t worth worrying over something like that anymore.

The first time he had gotten a scar was as a kid. He had been playing with his cat before the fluffy little thing scratched his hand. He’d cried, a plaster was put over the cut, and even though his mum had kissed it better it had still scarred.

At the time he had cared, didn’t want the thin, white line marking his body even if his friends said it made him look like a badass.

Over time that scar had faded, but others had taken its place. It was funny how little be begun to care the bigger the scars got.

Some of them weren’t that bad. It could be fun to trace over the scars as he recounted the story of how it had come to be. One of them the result of a bet that ended in him breaking his ankle and needing surgery on it. One from when he had fallen off his bike and was thrown over the handlebars before he cut open his arm. In his opinion, he had looked really cool whilst doing it. The rest of the crew didn’t think so, but in fairness they had actually _seen_ it happen, he had just experienced it.

Some of the other scars weren’t so nice. Various different scars that had come from different kinds of torture methods, each meant to inflict pain and extract information out of him. He tried to not care about those so much. No matter how many of them there were, he hadn’t uttered a single word that he shouldn’t have whilst they were being carved into his body. However, they were the ones he found it hard to look at. They still brought memories of pain and loneliness, of knowing that if he held out a bit longer his boys would come find him, but still having doubts if he could last that long. Those were the ones that weren’t just carved into his skin, but also onto his mind. The ones that took too long to fade.

Then there were the scars he wore with pride. Of times he had saved another member of the crew even though he had ended up hurt himself. Times when he had almost died but would die and die again if it meant he could save one of them from being hurt. Those were the ones that the rest of the crew didn’t like to look at. Didn’t like to be reminded of times they had failed him, but he didn’t see it like that. He would litter his body with those kinds of scars and wouldn’t even flinch if it meant his crew was safe.

It was one of those kinds of situations that lead to him sat in the bathroom of their penthouse as someone patched him up. The wound in his arm hurt, but he barely even noticed. Someone said it was deep enough to need stitches, but he didn’t care. It would scar, but he didn’t mind. He had enough that in time he wouldn’t even remember it.


End file.
